


Orc Princess

by Townycod13



Category: South Park
Genre: M/M, Princess Tutu - Freeform, Ridiculous, Stick of Truth, blame panaceaa, mcquawkers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-24 11:25:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14354487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Townycod13/pseuds/Townycod13
Summary: A fairytale. A duck. A splash of misfortune. One could call it chaotic.





	Orc Princess

**Author's Note:**

  * For [panaceaa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/panaceaa/gifts).



_Once upon a time_ ,

There was an unfinished story in an unfinished town.

Countries at war. Pride blinding the might. Lives shattered in the crossfire. A man that tried so hard to save them all.

A powerful staff lost to the gaps in time.

And the world frayed as a result.

\--

“Quack.”

A soft music expanded over the lake.

The duck didn’t pay it much mind, not at first.  It was merely a backdrop to the silence. It was only when a voice joined in that the creature so much as raised it’s beak from the surface of the lake.

It was a soft voice, awkward in places, cracked in others, but sad.

It was so sad.

The duck swam mindlessly towards the sound, all usual self-preservation about voices lost in the wake of how brokenly sad the sound was.

“—ome on, people  now, people now…”

The sound dwindled to a stop and the duck found itself swimming somewhat desperately towards the sound.

Such a sad sound.

Empty and soulless.

“Quack…?” it ventured, trying to catch the sound before it disappeared entirely.

A new voice spoke, close, so terrifyingly close, “You want to help him?”

 _Do I_ …? The duck wondered. Did it want to help anyone?

It just wanted to see the being so sad.

And… what next? What could a duck possibly do? His existence on the lake suddenly felt so small, so insignificant.

“You can help him. Only you can do it.”

_But how?_

“You’re the Princess.”

\--

“Kenny!”

Kenny seriously debated not stopping his march to class. He had maybe thirty more seconds to make it across a crowded school to the music room before his crazy teacher decided to make an example of him.

On the other hand the voice calling for his attention was none other than the buxom individual known as Bebe Stevens and Kenny had a policy of always making time to return greetings of such individuals.

“Bebe! What can I do for ya?”

In typical Bebe fashion she barely paused her in her confident stride to pass him her parcel, “Make sure this gets to Marsh, you have music with him, right?”

There was the slight temptation to sass her, being treated like an actual errand boy wasn’t really ideal in his eyes, but ultimately there was no point in making a big deal of nothing. She wasn’t wrong.

“Sure thing.” She was already long gone. Kenny looked at the box in his hands.

What the heck was Bebe making him give the other boy?

Curiosity gnawed at him but the bell informed that yes, he was definitely going to be going to disciplined by the time he made it to the classroom.

Oh well, the things he did for pretty girls.

Besides, it was a pretty good excuse to try at a conversation with the infamous Stan Marsh.

\--

Why precisely did he think being able to start a conversation with Marsh was a good idea? It was exactly a terrible idea that should never again be repeated.

Their teacher, a giant 7-foot tabby cat named Jerome, had by a pure stroke of luck been late as well. It had just seemed too convenient. He’d mosey over to spaced teen and explain the situation all normal like and then, who knows, maybe they could strike up a conversation about how weirdly intense the teacher was about love.

Seemed like an easy enough plan.

“What the fuck do you want?”

How could Kenny have forgotten about Stan’s semi-literal bodyguard. Seemed pretty literal at the moment, Kenny hadn’t made it within a yard of Marsh without a fiery bush of hair entering his eyesight as Kyle Broflovski inserted himself physically between the two.

“Uhh… Bebe gave m—“ he’d barely finished the third word before the box was actually _snatched_ out of his hands. Rude.

Paying no mind to whatever privacy might be between Bebe and Stan, Broflovski opened the box and immediately riffled within it. Even weirder yet, Stan showed no interest whatsoever, still zoned out in whatever head space he seemed to live in.

Sizzling green eyes snapped up to meet his own, “What are you still doing here? You can go.”

Kenny shrugged, tugging his hood tighter around him as he walked away. No need to make a big deal of something small…

...but holy _shit_ the rumors weren’t lying, Kyle Broflovski is an overly-protective rude asshole. Stan, apparently, a complete space case that lets the ginger do whatever the hell he wants.

What a duo of assholes.

It struck him as a bit strange that he’d never really had to deal with either of them directly before, they were in the same program after all and the class sizes were kept manageably small in the private school…

“Good morning, children! Who’s ready to sing?” the baritone voice of the cat dragged him from his thoughts and into the present.

Why was his teacher a giant cat again?

\--

“How was school today, Kenny?”

He shrugged, eyes locked on the meager dinner his family had prepared. Logically he understood that this was the usual meal that they had most every night.

Emotionally he had an irrational puzzlement that it wasn’t an assortment of weeds and insects.

How bizarre.

“Make any new friends?”

Right. Friends. Did he have those? Most high schoolers had friends. Did he have any of those?

Such specific questions were hard to pin down.

“I talked to Kyle Broflovski today.” He figured it would be a vague enough non-answer to appease his mother. She looked satisfied. His father crinkled his nose in disgust.

“Broflovski? That snooty lot? Don’t make friends with that kid, I know his dad. They’re a buncha hoity-toity trust-fund snobs.”

“Don’t be like that, Stuart, he---“

It was the start of an argument. Kenny tuned it out and passed bits of his dinner to Karen. She smiled appreciatively.

“I’m happy you’re here,” she whispered, secretively, “I like having you as a brother.”

What a strange thing to point out. Would families normally point out something like that? He glanced at Kevin but the older boy was predictably too distracted by his own food.

He felt so strangely _other_.

Kenny felt his stomach lurch. How long _had_ he lived here?

He drew a blank.

It was the first time he’d returned to this house.

He’d lived in this house his entire life.

Which was true?

Was this home?

His feet ached and his heart plummeted, one word making the inherent wrong _echo_ in his body. The resounding pressures a scream that he barely contained within his constricting throat.

And as if to accentuate how ill suited he was for the familial scene, a piece of ceiling broke under an unknown pressure, killing him on the spot.

\--

_Blood pooling in his lungs as he tried to cry for help and the sounds of the mundane dinner proceeding around him like nothing was wro—_

“Quack.”

Right.

The familiar cool of the lake beneath him calmed the strange itch in his soul.

He was a duck.

Of course. How did he forget something so simple? How ridiculous he must have looked, a duck spending an entire day parading around like he was a human boy!

But he _had_ been a human boy, a shred of sense informed him. Everyone had responded reasonably, fiery redheads except, and he’d spoken a human language as clear as day!

Come to think of it he’d also understood the human language. How odd. That was new.

Was it all just a strange dream?

“Aw, gee, I’m sorry there, Kenny.”

Kenny’s wings flapped rabidly in surprise, succeeding in only temporarily dunking himself in the water below. He shook himself and tried to find the source of the voice. The misty early morning dew was the only thing visible in the pond and he felt a rush of panic.

“Don’t panic, I didn’t meant I scare you. Gosh, that must have hurt just now?”

The voice didn’t _sound_ sinister so Kenny just quacked in affirmation.

Being human for a day was okay in his book but dying had been a whole different can of beans that he never wanted to experience again.

“I’m sorry, it seems my reach is limited. You’re not meant to be a boy, you see, and reality is trying to correct the mistake.”

None of that sentence made any actual sense to the duck but he nodded tentatively regardless. Maybe if he kept the voice talking, he might get a real answer.

“Do you still want to help him? Knowing that it might happen again?” The voice sounded a touch hopeless, “I couldn’t really blame you if you don’t. I can’t imagine how awful that must’ve been.”

Kenny wanted to shake head. Tell the strange voice that he’d never been so hot on the helping thing to begin with.

“You’re the only one that can save him though.”

 _“I’m really happy to have you as a brother._ ”

The words echoed somewhere within him. What could he do as a duck? Who could he help as boy?

If no one else could do it…

The sad stilted song echoed in his heart once again. Who was the singer?

Could he really help someone? Save someone?

“Quack.”

It occurred to him too late that the mysterious voice probably didn’t speak duck but nonetheless the relieved voice responded.

“Oh thank gosh, I was really worried you’d say no! Don’t know what I woulda done then… alright, there should be clothes on the shore for you. There’s…”

There was a pregnant pause where the voice obviously hesitated. Kenny was patient.

“…a magic stone there to. As long as you have it, you should be able to remain as a boy. It should protect you from dying for good. So long as you have it, you’ll just return to being a duck.”

 _Comforting_. Kenny thought dryly.

“Don’t lose it. Please.”

“Quack.”

\--

Right. Life as a human boy: round two. He wondered what scrambled his brains so much the last time that made him think he was an actual boy.

Maybe it was whatever magic the disembodied voice was using to convince the town he’d always been there?

He tugged on the worn orange parka, careful to hide his face, and contemplated the time. He’d awoken at the top of the lake at the crack of dawn… how long did that give him to make it to class in time?

Also, larger concern, if he somehow transformed back into a bird In front of his music teacher, would the giant tabby try to eat him?

He decided resolutely to not allow that theory to be tested and began the trek back into town.

“What the hell are you doing all the way out here?”

What were the actual chances of running into grumpy bodyguard boy out here? Pretty fucking low, Kenny decided, unless humans behaved differently than he had previously assumed and often took walks in the middle of misty forests before school.

“Wel!?” right, snippy-guy asked a question. He could do this. Use his human mouth to give human words.

He opted for half honesty, “Skinny dipping.”

Disembodied voice did a pretty good job giving him a human vocabulary. Props to that guy.

Broflovski looked visibly disturbed, “What, are you some kind of pervert?”

“Quack.” Kenny affirmed and then, mentally, cursed at his slip.

Being a human boy was really complicated when your mind knew you were actually a duck.

The response actually seemed to work in getting the guy off his case, maybe it related to some human idiom he was unaware of, and turned away, “Just stay away from me and Stan, ok?”

“Stan’s here?” Kenny looked about, curious as to how he could have missed the guy’s entire existence.

As if called upon, Stan appeared from the bushes, looking for all the world like he was coming from the direction of the lake.

Kenny was suddenly very concerned about whether or not the guy had seen him poof into a boy and promptly get dressed. That would be an interesting task to explain.

Nothing about him looked particularly perturbed—as if the guy ever showed emotion—so Kenny figured he was in the clear.

“Come on, Stan. We’re getting out of here.”

Stan nodded vaguely and allowed himself to be dragged away.

But then he looked back.

Kenny was struck. His eyes were really blue. Too blue.

Sad.

Familiar in a strange way.

He waved half-heartedly to the pair and Stan finally looked away.

“What a pair of fucking weirdos.”

Like he was one to talk. He shrugged that off and began the waddle to school all over again.

Right. Don’t waddle. Humans don’t waddle.

\--

“Kenny!”

Oh god, this again.

“I thought I told you to make sure that box got to Marsh!”

“I did?” he should have probably said that with more confidence.

“No, you let it get intercepted by his would-be bodyguard. Wendy spent forever on that gift and now who knows if Stan even saw it!”

“Couldn’t Wendy give it to him then?”

“Of course not!” she said it like it was so obvious, Kenny really wished it was obvious to him, “If Broflovski saw Wendy get within a meter of Marsh, he’d probably get a restraining order!”

This was a bit much for Kenny. It was a little too soon after lunch and truthfully he was still getting used to people food.

“…why?” he tried, figuring the broad question might provide _some_ understanding.

“Like hell I know! The guys stupidly protective and he doesn’t like Wendy and Stan together!” she huffed and marched away, “Thanks for nothing, Kenny!”

Why was everyone so terribly rude today? Were ducks this rude? He couldn’t recall a fellow duck ever being this rude. Come to think of it, he didn’t really have an understanding of the word rude prior to now.

Maybe he should be rude in order to fit in better?

No, that seemed ill-advised. At least for now. He tugged at the draw strings of his parka, enjoying the way it closed off the outside world from his vision bit by bit.

Maybe he’d skip the next period. Hide in a bathroom and recoup.

Yeah. That seemed like a good plan. He redirected his course towards the nearest lavatory. Maybe he could duck out for a bit too?

He felt for the magic stone around his neck. He’d transformed back into a boy the moment he’d touched it so logic dictated that if he wanted to just be a duck for awhile, he could just remove it for a bit.

Besides, he was here to help a lonely singer he’d heard, not learn about English lit.

How exactly was he going to find the singer? It occurred to him that the disembodied voice never provided that information. Or how he was supposed to help him.

Step up your game, disembodied voice. Kenny groused, sinking onto the ground next to a toilet and fiddling with the jewel.

He could remove it right now. There was no one here and all he’d need to do was put it back on and he’d return to being a boy.

He tugged off the stone with more strength than he’d intended. His fingers were disappearing and now the stone slid under the stall door and oh great, the bathroom door was opening.

“—I don’t know what’s up with Bebe lately, man. She totally blew me off yesterday.”

“Dude, that sucks.” Zippers sounded. Okay. They were using the urinals. Kenny figured he could just wait for them to finish their business, then mosey on out from under the door and retrieve his _one of a kind super important pendant_ that the disembodied voice had _specifically_ requested he not lose.

It was a solid plan. No one would see a random duck in the bathroom and no one would find his abandoned clothes in the stall.

“Oh, hey, dude, is that a necklace on the floor?”

Oh, mother quacker.

Kenny spent too long debating the pros and cons of just revealing himself and snatching the jewel before the boys got too curious.

He could see a hand pick it up from under the stall door.

“Wow, how the fuck did it get in here?”

“Maybe a chick left it in here?”

“Why would a girl be in here, dingus.”

Kenny felt a bit of panic build at the sound of the door opening.

“Should we turn it in to the offi…” The voices drifted off with distance and Kenny remembered that there was a teacher within the walls of this school that probably could and would swallow him whole.

“QUACK!”

Was pacing a human thing?! He’d never remembered pacing before but now here he was pacing in a blind panic in a bathroom stall.

First he had to hide his clothes. He looked at what now appeared to be a giant parka.

This was less than ideal for his size.

Why wasn’t he a bigger duck? Or a goose? Or a swan? _Or still a human boy and not a tiny edible duck_.

“ _Qua-qu_ ack.” He despaired a little and went about shoving the parka and pants behind the toilet. At least they would be a little out of sight.

Next he needed to find the boys that had been talking earlier. They mentioned Bebe? Maybe they were friends with her?

He marched out of the locked stall. He could do this. He would find the boys and the pendant and not get eaten and everything would be fine.

And he could _totally_ open a door without opposable thumbs. Sure.

He was a challenger. No way he was going to let such a small thing stop him. He’d just flap his way up to the lever and use his body weight to push it down.

It was only when he was perched precariously on the thing that he realized he had no way of applying pressure to the door.

“QUACK!” he cursed, hobbling on the lever.

Insult to injury the door opened.

Startled green locked on his terrified blue.

“What the fuc—“

“QUA-QUACK!!” nope, no dealing with rude boy right now, Kenny made a mad escape for the gap between the door and boy, waddling and flapping as fast as he could down the hall and away from the ginger.

He needed to find Bebe and fast. What class did she have this period?

Soft hands scooped him up effortlessly and Kenny’s short duckie lifespan along with his yet shorter boyhood flashed before his eyes, frozen in dread and horror.

“Woah, there, little guy. There are some pretty big predators in this building.” _No shit!_ Kenny quacked irately in response, regaining the will to struggle, “How did you even get in here?”

 _Would you believe me if I said disembodied voice, magic stones, and a series of terrible life choices?_ Truthfully not all of what Kenny wanted to express was available in the vocabulary of quacks but he still made a valiant effort.

Kyle Broflovski, strangely less aggressive than normal, quirked a smile at the tirade.

 _Oh, so_ **_now_ ** _you know how to smile!_ Kenny snarked, sounding something like ‘qua-wuack QUACK quaaacccck’.

“Alright, if it means that much to you, I’ll let you go. But seriously, watch out for the music room. I don’t know how much like dinner you might look like to Chef.” There was a light laughing lilt to his voice and Kenny finally calmed enough to consider it.

Broflovski might be a stupid jerk to other humans but he was pretty legit to ducks. And with consideration to the larger span of Kenny’s life, he was inclined to view the duck thing as more important.

The hands lowered him and he shook himself indignantly, staring just a bit at the inconsistent boy.

“Quack.” He said decisively, marching away in his most dignified waddle.

He almost forgave the chuckle he heard behind him.

First. Bebe.

“ _How dare you_ \--!”

Oh, that was her voice now.

“Wendy doesn’t have to listen to you!”

“Bebe, please—“

“She’s _better_ than you and she deserves the best, you sick weirdo!”

“Children, children, please calm down.”

Oh, why did the shrill screams have to be coming from the music room?

Also, either the disembodied implanted faulty memories in him, or Bebe was much less chill than she normally should be.

“Holyshit, Bebe is _losing_ it.”

There! The voice from the bathroom!

Kenny stared at the door in front of him with trepidation. He needed to get to the other side but he wasn’t entirely sure he _wanted_ to.

For starters, whatever had Bebe so up in arms wasn’t going away anytime soon and she was sounding increasingly deranged.

Most importantly though, cat.

God, why was it a cat?

“I thought I told you to stay away from the music room.” The chiding voice didn’t sound all that upset though, “Wow, I’ve never heard Stevens explode like this…”

Well, at least that confirmed that she was behaving abnormally.

Kenny made his decision. He needed the stone and waiting for whatever meltdown Bebe was having to conclude seemed like a bad plan. Besides, the teacher sounded plenty distracted dealing with her. He could pop in, get the gem, and run away before anyone noticed him transforming.

It took a moment or so to start after all. He could do this.

He steeled himself for the hardest aspect of this plan:

Explaining to Kyle Broflovski his part in all this.

“Quaack,” he started slowly, gesturing to the door knob out of his reach, “Qua-quaack.” He continued, wing pointed at the human boy, and completing it all with a questioning, “Quack?”

“...you want me to open the door.”

Give the kid a metal! Kenny nodded enthusiastically, a sudden affection blossoming for Kyle. Say what you will about people skills, he had duck-skills! And those were ultimately more important.

“You do realize there is a 200 pound tabby cat on the other side of this door, right?”

Kenny nodded, too pumped over his initial success to care.

“I’m not going to protect you if he pounces.”

Kenny waved his wing dismissively, “Quack.”

“…okay, I’ll help, just… try to stay low and _not_ make a scene, okay?”

“Quack!” Kenny promised.

Kyle knocked on the door, opening it tentatively and positioning himself in a way that disguised Kenny’s sneaky waddle into the room. It was hard not to be touched by the clear intent of the action. Kenny decided that Kyle was a-ok in his book. Quality human.

He snuck under the chairs, listening among the murmuring children for the familiar voice from the mens room.

“ _—all of you can just die_ —!”

Woah. Kenny’s attention swerved to the hysterical girl, the escalation was clearly going a bit far and—

What was that behind her?

It was like a red shadow of a person. It looked like it was—holding her? Speaking for her?

Did no one else see this?

“Only you can see it, Princess.”

The scene paused. Quite literally.

Kenny swerved his vision all about the room, students were frozen mid-sentence, a clock’s second hand remained unmoving, a pencil hung in the air before it hit the floor.

Was this a normal human thing to happen? Kenny hoped not, it was creepy as fuck.

“I don’t have long. Get the pendent. With it you can transform—“

 _Obviously, that’s what I’m trying to do!_ Kenny retorted, mentally.

“—into the Princess. Bebe Stevens is possessed by a desire that doesn’t belong to her. If they aren’t separated, it will destroy them both.”

 _Why_? Kenny had too many questions.

“If you want to save him, you have to separate them and return his shattered desires.”

Time slowly began grinding into movement, the voice was growing more distant.

“Only you can do it.”

The glow of his pendant caught his eye and Kenny made a wild waddle for it.

“Princess.”

The world _rushed_ into movement, so fast, too fast, he was transforming before he could even think to escape and—

He could see the red shadow so clearly now.

It had a familiar face but it was so full of _emotion_ that Kenny could barely connect it as the same person in his mind.

“Stan.”

His own voice surprised him. It wasn’t the voice he had as a human boy.

Oh, right. He wasn’t a boy right now.

He was a Princess.

Delicately she made her way through the seated students, all staring in shock at her sudden appearance.

“Stan,” she called again, it was suddenly so clear, she needed to separate the two, “Come away. You’re going to hurt Bebe.”

Stan shook his head, clinging tighter to the still upset girl.

They spoke as one.

“No! I need to protect her! I need to protect them all! If I don’t, no one will!”

What a strange combination of tones.

How could she possibly coax them apart?

Kenny’s mind drew up the sad voice at the lake. The song.

 _“Hey, people,”_ she began, barely the beginning of song, soft like a lullaby, Stan’s antics froze, entranced, _“Come on, people now, people now_ ,”

“That’s my song…” Stan’s ghostly eyes were wide and terrified, but his grip on Bebe was loosening.

 _“Come on, Stan_ ,” Princess sang, slowly gesturing for the boy to come unhindered. “ _Sir Marshwalker.”_ She amended.

Whatever spell had dulled the senses of the onlookers waned. Just as Stan began to drift Kyle was between them, eyes alight with that earlier rage. Princess thought it looked somewhat familiar.

“What are you going to do with him?!”

The demand was jagged and full of so many pieces of emotion, Princess picked one and closed the distance between them, hands reaching to hold the boys cheeks.

“It’s okay. I’ll help him.”

He wasn’t pacified but it didn’t matter, Princess swept past him and reached the shattered desire.

“You’re Sir Marshwalker’s desire to protect, aren’t you?”

It was so clear, like a distant memory, a world not her own but that she should belong in. She wondered if it was more magic from the voice but she decided the most important part was helping the nodding shard of emotion.

“You have to go home. Back to Stan. Can you do that for me?”

 _Yes_ , the voice was echoed rather than heard and the boy dissipated until only a red shard was left in her hand.

“What did you do to him?!”

Ah, Kyle’s demands. Can’t let a girl have a moment, can he?

Deciding to ignore it for now, Princess brought the shard up to her lips to kiss a song gently into it.

 _“You can go home now_.”

And it disappeared.

Rough hands grabbed her dress and tugged her to look into the blaze of green in Kyle’s eyes, “Who the _fuck_ are you and what did you do?!”

She smiled, gently, “I’m the Orc Princess.”

Before Kyle had the time to respond a scream echoed through the school, the voice all too familiar.

Kyle released her, already halfway out the door at the sound.

“Stan!”

**Author's Note:**

> yes, this is a princess tutu spoof XD for those that haven't watched that fantastic anime, I highly recommend giving it the time of day! It is well worth the watch<3
> 
> this is entirely panaceaa's fault and i love her for this  
> https://panacea-for-all-evil.tumblr.com/post/172885290091/soooo-i-found-my-drawing-tablet


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